


bye-bye doesn't mean forever

by hanktalkin



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dad Torbjörn, Daddy Issues, Empathy, F/F, Formalwear, Greece, Lizards, Movie Night, Mystery, References to ABBA, Study of Ancient Runes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-15 01:37:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9213500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanktalkin/pseuds/hanktalkin
Summary: Mysterious lights, two-thousand year old buildings, a Meryl Streep movie; the perfect recipe for romance and falling off things. (But mostly romance)a.k.a. Angela finds the former security officer isn’t as serious as she appears to be.





	1. The Strong Silent Type

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to call this “blue since the day we parted” but even im not that tacky. actually, that’s a stellar quote for mercymaker now that I think about it

Angela tried to stay awake during Winston’s speech, she really did. After all, it was a terribly lovely speech, full of hope and wonderment and visions for the future. It was just that he had been talking to the New Overwatch for forty-five minutes now, and one could only hear the words “make a difference” so many times before their eyes began to droop.

Others present did not make as great an effort. Jesse was in the chair to Angela’s left, out cold with his hat over his face. His legs were propped up on the seat in front of him, but nobody was there to pay him mind. Either no one had noticed his occasional snoring, or they had come to expect this behavior from him. Either way, disappointing.

She was pulled from her critique by Winston’s words. “…And they tore our family apart.”

 _Did they?_ She couldn’t keep the thought from coming. _Or did we do this to ourselves?_

Not for the first time, she wondered why she had returned. She had been the most critical in Overwatch’s final days, the loudest voice for peaceful retirement. When they had gone into hiding, she would tell anyone who listened that the world was better off. So then why was she here?

A look around Gibraltar’s briefing room answered her question. Torbjörn was here. As were Genji, Lena, and Reinhardt. They were still her family, despite the years and disasters they had weathered. She couldn’t resist the call home more than any of them could.

Too painful to look at were the seats missing. Members they lost along the way, friends who wouldn’t be coming home. And yet, new faces are here as well. The slight omnic who sat at Genji’s side was a curiosity, though a polite one from Angela’s brief introduction.

But who caught her eye—the woman who is so undoubtedly a replacement for another—stood at attention at the front of the room. Fareeha Amari looked directly at Winston, drinking in every word, not even trying to suppress the look of pure amazement on her face. From what Angela had heard, Fareeha had left a high-ranking position in Helix Security to come here, seduced by tales of heroes and glory gone. Angela couldn’t help but feel guilt over that. It was the image they had painted themselves for so long, raking in new recruits who still had hope for the world. Still, even in the years that had followed the disaster in Switzerland, Fareeha had apparently never lost that optimism.

“…And good luck out there. All of you,” Winston finished finally. There was no clapping, but solemn nods as the new team began to disperse. Fareeha blinked, as though waking from a daze.

Angela took her eyes off the handsome corporal, instead gently shaking Jesse awake.

“Whu…?” he asked, his hat slipping a little further over his eyes. He quickly pushed it back up and blinked at her. “Oh, hey. I miss anything important?”

“No, of course not,” Angela replied dryly. “Why would a briefing contain anything important?”

A smile played at Jesse’s lips despite her terseness. “Well that’s good to hear.”

She shook her head, the boy’s charm’s not easy to ignore. _Man_ , she corrected herself, _not boy_. It was a difficult change to accept, the years gone by most apparent on the younger members. Here this boy she’d met at the age of seventeen was now in his late thirties, Genji had traveled the entire world, and Ana Amari’s daughter was old enough to be a distinguished military officer. It seemed that the only person time hadn’t touched was her.

And Torbjörn. Lord knows what _his_ secret was.

Her thoughts turned back to Fareeha. Despite the other operative’s casual appearance, Fareeha’s clothes were strictly business. She looked around her, as though realizing she might be out of place for the first time in her life. Pity tugged Angela over to the off-beam woman.

“Fareeha. It has been a long time.”

“Dr. Ziegler!” Fareeha practically jumped out her uniform. “You…startled me.” She looked like she couldn’t decide between saluting or extending an awkward handshake. In the end she did neither, settling for standing at attention once again.

 _When was the last time I have seen her? Sixteen? Seventeen?_ Long enough that Fareeha’s face had sharpened into hard edges and high cheekbones, the last traces of post-pubescence melted away. _I suppose she couldn’t have those chubby little baby cheeks forever._

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to. And there is not need to call me Dr. Ziegler, all formalities dissipated with the collapse of the first Overwatch.” On the word _formalities_ , Angela’s eyes vaguely drifted to Fareeha’s uniform.

“She mean’s you’re dressed like a GI,” Jesse said from behind her, this time making both of them jump. He had apparently followed Angela over and deemed the conversation worthwhile. “Don’t cha’ have any civilian clothes, or are you trying to show me up?” he asked with a grin.

“I packed as quickly as I could when I heard the news,” Fareeha said defensively. “This is all I had. And you’re one to talk when you’ve let your stupid little soul patch become that monstrosity!”

“Hey, I worked hard on this!” Jesse retorted, but there was laughter in his voice. “And I’m not the one wearing mismatching socks.”

Fareeha looked down at her feet, the different patterned socks poking out just below her dress pants. She made a small grunt of embarrassment, which only made Jesse grin even wider.

“Like I said, I packed quickly.” Fareeha folded her arms across her chest. “Everything wrong with _your_ outfit seems to be intentional.” She poked him in the stomach, only a few centimeters above his custom made BAMF belt.

Angela watched the two bicker, falling into old habits like the decades apart were mere days. Here she had thought she was trying to make Fareeha more welcome, but now she was the one who felt like an outsider. Jesse departed after awhile, making some smart comment about how dressing like you’re someone’s superior officer would fly at Blackwatch. The two women watched him depart.

“If that ‘fly’ pun was intentional, I’m going to shoot him,” Fareeha frowned. She then noticed Angela was still with her, and straightened her spine once again. “It was nice to catch up with you ma’am. I hope we’ll be working together in the future.”

Just like that, her casual ease was gone, back to the painful formalities she reserved only for Angela. With a polite nod, she took her leave, leaving the older woman confused and a bit disappointed.

* * *

Smooth surfaces. Bulletproof glass. No dried blood on the operating table from the last doctor’s unsuccessful attempt at field medicine. She could get used to this.

As she examined her new facilities (well, _old_ facilities,) Angela deemed everything in working order. It had been so long since she had practiced anywhere remotely sanitary, the Valkyrie suit making infirmaries unnecessary for rapid response. She’d spent the last few decades wherever she was needed, in the most war-ravaged areas, in the most diseased parts of the world. _But now I’ve left the people who need me behind._

She shook her head, knowing that she was thinking with her heart instead of her head. It was time to come back to Overwatch for the same reason she’d joined in the first place: _this is where I can do the most good_.

The lab was devoid of most of its useful equipment right now, stripped after the fall of Overwatch, but that wouldn’t be for long. She would continue her research here, finding new and better ways to help people.

Her fingers traced the edge of a test tube holder, its multitude of vials missing. She added them to her even growing list of supplies when the door to the lab swung open.

“There she is! Didn’t think you could keep avoiding old Torby forever?”

Angela spun around, delight already glowing on her face. Torbjörn didn’t get out another sly comment before she scooped him into a hug, planting a kiss between his bushy eyebrows.

“Ah! If I’d known I’d be getting this treatment I’d’ve stopped by sooner,” he said with a laugh, wiping at his forehead.

Angela chuckled, dropping him back onto his feet. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just been so long! What have you been doing with yourself?”

“I could ask you the same question,” he said as he leaned against the nearest counter. “Must be something light if you’re still looking like that after all these years.” He gave her a wink with his good eye. She rolled her own in response.

“Oh please, like I haven’t heard fourteen variations on that same joke in the thirty-six hours I’ve been here.”

“Sorry Angie, couldn’t help myself.”

Inventory forgotten, Angela gleefully spend the morning reminiscing with her old friend. He’d unsurprisingly been all over the world, just like her. So many of his original designs were lost in the fall, scattered and sold to the highest bidder. Tracking them down had taken years of his life; he was dutifully following a long cold trail in northern Russia when the recall had happened.

“Before that, I was in Kurjikstan…” There was a shift on Torbjörn’s face, his playful smile gone. “Oh, listen to me go on and on. I’m sure whatever you’ve been doing is far more interesting than finding dusty old blueprints.”

“Torby…” Angela prompted. When he didn’t continue, she moved to lean next to him. “What’s wrong, _kolleg_?”

He looked out the window, even as Angela placed a hand on his shoulder. She’d never seen him this introspective; his gaze hardly wavered from the coastal view beside him. Eventually, he sighed.

“Everything’s wrong. So long as I’m still running around doing something, I can pretend it isn’t.” He looked up at her, the unconcealed worry plain on her face. “We create our own monsters, that’s all I have to say on it. Can we leave it at that?”

She withdrew her hand with a nod. That was something she understood all too well.

“I know what you mean,” she sighed. “If I can put more good into this world than the evil I’ve made, then that will be enough for me.”

They were silent after that, withdrawn but appreciative that they didn’t have to be so alone. The sun had moved since they’d begun catch up, dancing light flickering over the tiled ceiling.

“I think Ana got it right in the end,” Torbjörn said after a while. “That girl of hers is a guarantee that there’s going to good on this planet long after all of us are gone. Makes me glad I was away from my work long enough to meet Helga. In the end, it’s family that makes the most difference.”

“Oh, and what am I? Chopped liver?” Angela ribbed gently.

Torbjörn just rolled his eye. “I didn’t exclude you from that, did I? After all, you’re the oldest and most irritating of all my children.”

Angela laughed, knowing to take it as a complement. The two slid back into introspection.

Maybe it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Ana was on Torbjörn’s mind; the two had always been close. Ana’s death hadn’t come too long before the fall of Overwatch, and the events had always been tied together for him. Angela had her doubts. Despite being a respected member and a voice of reason, it was unlikely even Captain Amari could have slowed the events leading to Switzerland.

“Pharah is quite an asset,” Angela agreed. “But she’s…she’s not quite…”

“She certainly isn’t her mother,” Torbjörn finished for her.

That was the best way to put it. Ana, full of ease and laughs, who’d tut at you if you tried to call her “ma’am.” Who’d kiss Angela on the cheek and tell her she was a good girl, who’d laugh when Reinhardt made faces at her from across the meeting room. One night, exhausted after months of failed attempts on the Caduceus Staff prototype, Angela had found herself dragged out of her lab by the laughing sniper. Even after insisting repeatedly she needed to get back to work, Ana had just hummed, telling her what she really needed was a break. Captain Amari had called it “ladies’ wine night,” and it involved sitting on the roof in summer breeze while drinking a box of wine straight from the tap. By the time Angela’s face was flushed and thoughts of experiments were gone, she had decided it was the most fun night of her life.

“I cannot imagine her filling her mother’s role, no,” Angela agreed again. “From the few other times I have seen Fareeha, she is very…reserved. At least around me. She has strong convictions though, and is very determined.”

“In that case, she’s starting to sound more like Morrison!” Torbjörn laughed.

Angela couldn’t help but snicker at the comparison. This was good. This was what it was like to be surrounded by family; even when remembering hardships, it was much easier with a friend by your side.

“I will keep that in mind.” She paused, another moment of thoughtfulness. “And…I will keep an eye on her. No one deserves to be alone here. Not when that is what broke us in the first place.”

Torbjörn nodded, and they resumed their silent appreciation of the view.


	2. Tom? Have You Seen My Copy of the Greatest Movie of All Time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title of this chapter is a reference to the fact that there's a Hole in it, but it is also suiting in other ways

“Well. Let’s try not to fall down that,” Fareeha muttered, mostly to herself.

Sea breeze ruffled through the synthetic nerve endings in Angela’s wings, competing against the even colder wind that flew up from the well. She and Fareeha stood over the gaping chasm in the middle of the courtyard, their investigation of Ilios on hold until they could deal with the giant elephant in the room. Officially, the locals called it the “well” or “πισίνα,” even though there was no evidence any sort of freshwater could be retrieved from it. There seemed to be great superstition about the place, as it had been here as long as the ruins on the north of the island. Angela thought it was a terrible safety hazard, and wondered how many children fell into it every year.

“What have you to be worried about? If you were to fall in, you could just fly right back out,” Angela said as she peeked over the edge.

“Right…” Fareeha mumbled.

Angela cast her eyes over to the former security chief, her blue armor glinting in the Mediterranean sun. The Raporta Mark VI looked terribly stiff to the doctor, its wings frozen in place as Fareeha looked over the edge. The Valkyrie’s, in contrast, shivered as another blast of cold hit them.

“Perhaps we should return to transport,” Angela suggested as Fareeha continued to stare down into its depths. “I do not think we can glean anything more from here.”

Nodding absently, Fareeha stepped back. They walked back to the ship, locals giving them looks as they passed through the small Greek town. It was all well and good as long Fareeha didn’t fly anywhere; no need to look like a small fighter jet if they weren’t called to battle. As they passed under arches and flower boxes, Angela watched Fareeha out of the corner of her eye. From what could be seen below her visor, the other woman was frowning, mostly likely lost in thought or trying to piece together what was wrong here. They had been called to Ilios after several scant Talon sightings, but the illusive organization had yet to show themselves. Supposedly, Talon’s goals were at odds with that of Overwatch. But there was so little information on them, Angela didn’t want theorize exactly what those were.

Instead, she wished that Fareeha wouldn’t make that face. Her’s was a naturally august complexion, but the worried line of her mouth made Angela want to pat her on the cheek and tell her to enjoy herself. The air out here was wonderful, the people were friendly, and the smell of salt was good for the soul. Certainly there couldn’t be a better assignment.

“Ma’am? Is something up?” Fareeha’s frown had turned even deeper, thought now she was looking at Angela instead of ahead.

Angela sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck. She _had_ been staring quite a bit, there was no denying that.

“No, just…you have a spot on your helmet,” she bumbled. She became ever more flustered when Fareeha removed her helmet to wipe at the non-existent smudge. “And you do not have to call me ma’am. We’re partners on this mission, I don’t outrank you,”

“I…yes Mercy.”

Angela sighed. That wasn’t exactly what she meant.

They arrived at the ship, the onboard AI recognizing them through several layers of identification. Its state-of-the-art interior provided anything they would need on recon, and some amenities for comfort while away from the watchpoint. It was of the improvements of New Overwatch she was quite taken with, though she could practically hear Torbjörn’s voice saying _if we’ve got air mattresses and surround sound, I’d sooner stay in a hotel if it’s all the same to you_. He had never been fond of flying.

“We should head up to the ruins again during daylight, perhaps we have missed something,” Angela said as she began typing up a report on the well. Fareeha merely grunted, depositing her helmet on the end table.

Angela’s fingers flew through the electronic keyboard, thoughts coming easy when she knew the report would be brief. Although the well didn’t have any obvious connections to their current mission, she couldn’t shake the feeling it had some significance. For one, it was terribly spooky. But more concretely, it dated back to within a few decades from when their main objective was constructed.

What could Talon be looking for?

That was assuming they hadn’t already found it and disappeared before the two agents had arrived. A unsettling thought, though it would explain why there hadn’t been any of them lurking about.

She was just setting the time and date to her notes when she heard a beeping at the front of the ship. Fareeha made a move towards the stern, but Angela jumped up first. “I have it!”

Fareeha raised her eyebrows as the older woman raced to the front of the ship.

Click. “Hello, this thing on?” Torbjörn’s voice hummed out of the control panel.

“You think you’d be able to tell when the communicator is working considering you work with machines for a living,” Angela told him, bemused.

“Hey, go easy on me! I’ve been out of the mainstream for nearly ten years!”

Angela laughed, energy spreading out from the base of her neck to her back. It was different along her spine, where warmth pooled like sweat after and an exhausting flight. She leaned over the panel, glad to have someone to talk to that didn’t make her blush every few seconds.

Torbjörn was in Rio De Janeiro, but his efforts there were about as mysterious as Angela’s own. That was the problem it seemed; this wasn’t the omnic crisis, the enemies Overwatch had were not so easily seen. The conversation flowed in and out, part briefing part social catch-up. By the time the link clicked off, Angela’s mood had drastically improved.

“Let’s head back to those ruins, yes?” she asked Fareeha cheerily.

Instead of responding in the affirmative, Fareeha just started at her. After a brief second, Angela raised her eyebrows.

“Is something the mater?”

“Your wings,” Fareeha said in attempt to regain her composure. “They were…moving.”

“I mean…yes? They must at some point, otherwise they wouldn’t be much use.”

“Not like that. When you laughed.”

Angela felt a tendril of embarrassment run down the back of her neck which, of course, made her wings fold back in on themselves to mirror her discomfort.

“Ah,” she faltered. “Have I not mentioned? They’re empathetic, designed to be controlled through neural signals just like any other part of the body.” When Fareeha expression remained unnerved, Angela stammered ahead. “They’re controlled by thought rather than muscle movement. Unfortunately, that means they tend to have a mind of their own when I’m not paying attention. They’re emotive.”

“So they wiggle when you laugh?” Fareeha looked even more confused, like she couldn’t imagine what purpose that would serve.

“Yes,” Angela admitted. “Happy, sad, just a side effect of the way they were constructed.” Like hell she was ever going to admit she’d added that feature because she thought it was cute.

Fareeha nodded, the explanation satisfactory to her. But one thing still stuck in the back of her mind. “I haven’t seen them do that before. Have you not been happy since you got here?”

Just when she thought she’d gotten her bearings, Angela felt warmth in her cheeks again. “No no, nothing like that. I have been…making an effort not to let them get out of hand. They only reason they were doing that now was because I had…” _forgotten someone was watching me_.

The end of the sentence didn’t need to be said aloud apparently, because Fareeha just nodded, lost in thought. After a moment of reticence between them, Angela cleared her throat.

“Shall we be off then?”

Fareeha nodded again, and followed Angela out as the opened the bay door. The former security officer remained silent as they made their way up the mountain towards the islands peak, still processing the information. Angela felt slightly guilty, though she wasn’t sure why. Something about the way Fareeha had asked _have you not been happy since you got here?_ made it seem like the mission here was a burden to the doctor. In fact, it was the exact opposite, especially when it seemed like _Fareeha_ was the one not enjoying herself. Angela closed her eyes, letting the afternoon sun warm her cheeks and the back of her neck.

They had nearly made the long hike up the mountain when Fareeha got her attention again.

“Neural signals, right? So you can feel things with them?”

“Yes,” Angela confirmed, wondering where this was going. “It’s mostly to detect air currents and temperature, but they are fairly sensitive.”

They stopped in what could only be descried as the entrance to the ancient building. Fareeha gently reached her hand over to one of the Valkyrie’s wings. “May I?”

“Be my guest.”

Fareeha tenderly touched the patagium of the wing with her armored hand. It was a small pinch, the alloy not giving way under her fingertips the way skin might. She frowned, now running her hand along to the wing’s wrist.

Angela giggled.

Fareeha stared at her, and the doctor immediately tried to stifle her twittering. She couldn’t help it! It _tickled_ goddamn it! Fareeha caressed the wing again, making Angela laugh even harder.

Mouth opened slightly, Fareeha withdrew her hand. Angela’s other wing twitched with her giggles, the ghost of Fareeha’s hand still brushing her. Collecting her mind, she sent a sharp signal to the disobedient limb. _Stop that_.

The wing stopped twitching, and Fareeha shifted from foot to foot. If Angela didn’t know any better, she’d say the other woman was embarrassed.

“Sorry,” Fareeha muttered.

“It’s alright,” Angela said with a wave of her hand. “Like I said, sensitive.”

The rest of the day was spent investigating the ruins again, but it proved to be as unsuccessful as they night they arrived in Ilios. Angela could tell that Fareeha was deep in thought, but on what she wasn’t sure. That was the thing about Fareeha; she was remarkably introspective. What Angela had at first taken as inherent mummery was just her trying to pick out the best course of action without revealing all her thoughts.

More ruins, more nothing. There was gate set into the side of the mountain, but it was long ago shattered, and the stairway had collapse in on itself. There was no sign Talon had attempted to dig it out, and unless they had put back a very convincing set of debris after opening it, no one had been down there in a millennium. Still a dead end.

“I suppose there is nothing to do but wait until they make their next move,” Angela sighed. _However long that will take._

At first, she believed the trek down the mountain would be another silent one, but Fareeha suddenly spoke up.

“You’re very close to Lindholm,” she said out of the blue.

It wasn’t a question, but Angela felt the need to answer her. “Yes, ever since I joined. Torbjörn was one of the founding members you know. He made a point to at least talk to every member of the research department.”

“Did you know my mother?”

Ah, so that was it. “Not as well as you would like me to,” Angela admitted, and she could see a little enthusiasm drain from her partner. “I spoke with her often, but not outside of Overwatch. She had many duties to the organization, and I spent most of the war engrossed in my own work.”

“Of course,” Fareeha said, disappointment evident. “I had meant to speak with Lindholm about her before he left, but I did not get the chance. I was hoping…never mind. I know you were probably too young to be at her rank anyway.”

_To young? Oh, of course._

If Fareeha didn’t find Angela’s supposed age of thirty-seven suspicious, (or the fact that she looked nearly identical to how she was twenty years ago,) then Angela wouldn’t kick loose stones.

Speaking of loose stones.

Angela was just opening her mouth to console Fareeha when her foot slipped. It took only a second for the steep incline to take her, and her wings flared out immediately. Hard light feathers sprung from deep within the Valkyrie suit, allowing her to make one powerful flap and sparing her a face full of limestone.

It took a second to realize her balance had returned to her, as she’d expected at least a few seconds of frantic flapping. Instead, she felt a steadying arm around her middle, holding her in place as she regained her footing. Slowly, the arm withdrew, and Angela turned to see Fareeha casting her eyes away. She had much the same look on her face when she’d touched Angela’s wings for the first time.

“My apologies,” she blushed. “I see you can take care of yourself.”

“No no, it’s quite alright,” Angela insisted. “We’ve got to have each other’s back here, after all. And it seems you’re taking good care of mine.”

Fareeha only blushed deeper. They stood gracelessly for a moment, still perched on the edge of the mountain, a kilometer or so before they got back to transport. Eventually, Angela had the presence of mind to clear her throat and gesture down the path.

“Shall we?”

However, despite the awkwardness in the air, Angela felt the need to continue the conversation as the made their way back.

“I’ll speak with Torbjörn when we get back. I’m sure he’d be happy to talk with you about your mother.”

Fareeha was still recovering. “Thank you,” she muttered.

Angela kept talking, tilting her head contemplatively. “Don’t let the crankiness fool you, he’s a very kind man. You know, when I first began my work at Overwatch, he was the only who ever came in to see how I was doing. My parents had died in the Omnic war, something I was still carrying with me when I joined up. I don’t know if a lot of people knew that, but Torby did. He was older, wiser, and is overly protective. It’s no surprise I just…latched onto him.”

Fareeha listened with curiosity, maybe a bit of surprise Angela was opening up so easily. She didn’t offer mandatory condolences when Angela mentioned her parents, something the doctor couldn’t be more grateful for, and actually smiled at the mention of Torbjörn.

“Hey, no one knows latching onto father figures better than me,” Fareeha admitted with a laugh. “I spent almost my entire childhood running around Overwatch wondering ‘which one of these people is my dad?’ I thought Mum was just hiding it from me; it never actually occurred to me she didn’t know either.”

Angela suppressed a snort. “Oh, I remember that. You were _everyone’s_ favorite. Reyes used to sneak you sweets before your dinner…”

“Morrison would give me speeches about unity and ‘strengths in our differences’,” Fareeha said with a roll of her eyes.

“And Reinhardt was particularly fond of you. Always talking about how good your martial arts were getting.”

“Did you know he can still pick me up?” Fareeha grinned. “He proved it to me the first day I arrived at Gibraltar. Swung me around and marveled how big I was.”

Angela couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image. The walls between them seemed to dissolve in the evening sun, the orange sunset turning the mountainside into amber. _Basic concept of self-disclosure_ , Angela supposed. _Glad we’ve finally reached some common ground._

“Anyway, Mum got so sick of my constantly asking, she stuck me in front of the vid screen and made me watch _Mama Mia_.” Fareeha looked over to the ocean, smiling fondly. “I loved it instantly. I made her play it for me all the time, whenever I was taking a break from training or studying. I was so obsessed, she must have regretted ever showing it to me in the first place.”

“That has Meryl Streep in it, right?” Angela asked vaguely.

Fareeha pushed up her visor, showing her widened eyes. “You mean you’ve never _seen_ it?” she asked, dumbfounded.

“Pharah, that movie was old when _I_ was a little girl.”

That didn’t stop the grin growing over Fareeha’s face. “Well, I know what _we’re_ doing when we get back to transport.”

Fareeha sped up down the mountainside. Angela laughed, sprinting after her and hurrying to keep up. The rest of the walk back consisted of Fareeha talking excitedly after her, insisting she was just going to _love_ this thing. The ship opened for them once again, and Fareeha immediately set to work starting the movie. As the last rays died in the west, Angela got out her armor and plopped in front of the vid screen, listening to Fareeha shuffle through their supplies.

“Do you know if we have any popcorn?” she asked, head still buried in the bin.

“Try underneath the biscotti.”

More shuffling. “Found it!”

As the movie began, Angela snuck a glance at her partner. Fareeha had finally taken off her armor, reclining into the couch with more relaxation than she’d ever seen her. As the first song _Honey Honey_ began to play, Angela could have sworn she was humming along. But soon, Angela didn’t have much time for sneaking looks, as she was suddenly sucked in to the silly spectacle of a movie. The characters were fun, the musical numbers were random, and the plot had all the complexity a princess movie. Angela could see why a young Fareeha would love it.

When the movie had finally gotten to _Dancing Queen_ , Angela perked. “I know this one!”

She began to sing along, missing the look of surprise Fareeha shot at her. It didn’t hold her back for long, and soon both of them were bellowing out, “see that girl! Watch that scene! Diggin’ the dancing queen!” Though Angela still only knew about half the words, she was glad just for the fun of it.

Even when the movie ended, Fareeha and Angela wouldn’t stop talking over one another. There was a flutter in the doctor’s chest, something unadulterated and pure, the high of doing something simply for the guilty pleasure of it. Fareeha kept asking about her favorite part, and Angela had a new one every time. There was a light in her eyes, and she was sure that if she were still wearing her wings, she wouldn’t be able to hold them back.

“I can see why your mother picked it,” she admitted. “I can see the parallels.”

Fareeha grinned. “I suppose all I have to do to find my father is to get married in Greece. Actually,” she said thoughtfully, “I’m already in Greece, aren’t I? All I have to do is find someone to marry me.”

“Well I’m game,” Angela teased. “Though, I’d prefer if you bought me dinner first.” Instead of laughing, Fareeha blustered, retreating in on herself somewhat. Angela backpedaled. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I was only-”

“No, it’s fine,” Fareeha admitted, regaining some composure. “I’m just not used to…” she moved her arms vaguely. “…Casual.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed.” Angela leaned back on the armrest to get a better look at her. “I’m glad we spent some time together tonight, though. You do not seem to open up easily.”

Fareeha raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you have been so formal with me, especially compared to some of the others. I was worried…I don’t know. That you didn’t like me?”

“No, that’s not it at all,” Fareeha assured her. “I’m not _trying_ to be uptight all the time but…being back here…not here specifically but being back at Overwatch. It’s just so many memories. I feel like half these people don’t know me, but they knew my mother. And there are expectations…”

“Hey,” Angela said, placing a hand on her shoulder, “that can be the least of your troubles while you’re out here. Maybe the others are holding you to some standard, but I won’t. We’re allies, on a mission, trying to bring back a little good in the world.”

Fareeha looked her in the eyes. Before she might have turned away under the open affection, but now she stared right back at Angela with only a small smile of embarrassment. “Thank you Mercy. It’s good to know someone has my back.”

“Partners?” Angela offered her hand.

“Partners.” Fareeha took it.

It had turned late, and although they didn’t have any specific plans for tomorrow quite yet, it would no doubt require plenty of rest. The two operatives turned in, dropping into their respective bunks with relief. As Angela drifted off, she decided she had a new contender for the most fun night of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this before the christmas comic came out, so there weren't those hints at PharDad at the time. for the sake of this universe just assume Pharah doesn't know who her father is


	3. A Bird in the Hand is Mightier Than the Bush

“Warning. Possible Talon sighting detected.”

Lights fizzled along the inside of the ship, disorienting and confusing Angela’s tired brain. She pushed herself out her bunk, trying to remember where she was. There, the bowl of popcorn. And some blankets, still left on the couch from last night. Fareeha already had one foot out of bed and rushed across the main room to reach the command console. Athena repeated her warning, then went silent.

By the time Angela had pulled on the Valkyrie suit and snapped on her halo band, a dark look crossed Fareeha’s face.

“Local police channels are getting sightings up at the ruins,” Fareeha reported.

“Sounds like the people we came here to see.”

Fareeha frowned. “We can’t know that for sure, but I think you’re right. Better assume these are hostiles.”

As Fareeha left to put on her own armor, Angela poured over the channel. The first sighting had been half an hour ago, but the frequency had only increased since then.

Head hung over the center console, Angela’s brow furrowed, the reports becoming stranger as they went on.

When Fareeha was finished, Angela hailed her. “Did you hear this? This thing about the green lights?”

A woman’s voice gurgled through the connection, speaking in Greek, but slow enough that Angela could understand a few words. Chartreuse dashes, glowing, flickering. The two partners looked at each other in concern.

“I don’t like this,” Fareeha muttered. “But there’s no way to know what’s going on if we don’t investigate. We’ll attempt reconnaissance until engagement becomes necessary.”

They stopped at the ship’s door, standing hesitantly until Angela realized Fareeha expected her to take point. “It’s your lead on this one, Pharah. You’re the push-off.”

“Ah. Right.”

Wings expanded on Fareeha’s back, shaped more like a jetpack than a real wing. But they were sturdy and reliable, and would get them to the summit much faster now that there was real danger to their mission. Fareeha took off with a FRMMMR.

Angela wasn’t far behind. Yellow streaks followed blue engine trails as the two flyers chased each other across the sky. _This_ is why they’d been chosen for each other, each movement complementing the other, burning their way through the night. It was so different than when Angela flew with any of the other members of Overwatch. Usually, she was only capable of gliding for a few seconds before the strain became too much for her wings. The Valkyrie suit didn’t provide nearly enough lift for sustained flight, and gliding alongside Fareeha was as close as she’d ever get.

The island stretched out before them, a black smudge under the new moon. Each time Angela felt herself begin to sink to low, she would return to Fareeha and regain a bit of stability. The woman was her touchstone.

Before long, they could see exactly what the reports had described. Green lights, two of them, flitting in and out between the columns.

“Do you think they know we’re here?” The words were barely out of Angela’s mouth before both lights stopped. There was a pause, a brief moment of recognition between the two parties that should have been impossible at this distance and in the pitch black of summer night, that made hearts stop and blood run cold. But then both lights moved at once, flying toward the upper ruins.

“Dive!”

Fareeha followed the command at once, dropping her hover and falling like a stone. Her super hero landing cracked marble as she smashed into the ground, her head whipping up and followed the hostile’s progression toward the peak.

Landing softly, one foot after another, Angela followed her line of sight. “They’re going towards the stairs!”

The two women raced up after the lights, stopping at the now opened staircase. The cave-in had been ripped apart, stones thrown farther down the mountainside and leaving nothing but claw marks. Angela could see gashes in the light from the Caduceus staff, eclectic blue lighting up the whole face. They hesitated at the edge of the tunnel, strategy and instinct fighting over whether or not to go in. The decision was made for them when less than a second later, something bright and humanoid burst from the abyss.

It crashed into Fareeha with all the force it could muster, appearing from the dark too fast for her to get a clear shot. Zigzagging away, it disappeared into the night, Fareeha raising her rocket launcher after it. But instead of trying to aim at the retreating figure, she lowered her weapon and began to pull Angela backwards. Angela protested, wondering why the hell Fareeha was letting it get away, when the other green light whizzed out of the darkness. This time, the commander was ready. The concussion blast hit it right as it set foot on the top step, throwing it into a nearby pillar. It slid to the ground, dazed but alive.

“Better to have one we know we have than try to get both,” Fareeha said, here eye on the slowly stirring figure.

The threat of attack was still imminent, but Angela couldn’t help but step closer to the body. It might have been an omnic; its skin was rough in quality and oddly shiny. But instead of having lights embedded in its body, it was wearing them like bracelets, bright enough to be seen from the town below. She thought of it as “the light,” it’s only distinguishing feature in the darkness. Before Angela could get a good look at their enemy, she froze, noticing what it had dropped in its fall.

It was a ball, scratched and metallic, roughly the size of a softball. Her breath caught in her throat. _This_ is what Talon was after.

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than Fareeha screamed. The first light had reappeared out of nowhere, once again launching itself at the other woman. Angela whipped her staff around, catching Fareeha’s attacker in the side of the head.

The distraction was just long enough. The light leapt from Fareeha, rushing past the both of them and scrabbling for the orb. Just like that it was gone again, precious cargo in tow.

Fareeha got to her feet, eyes dark. “Okay. _Now_ we go after it.”

* * *

Angela didn’t like leaving the unconscious light behind, but there was no time for second-guessing. They took to the sky, tracking their enemy as it made its way toward the main hub of Ilios. It wasn’t easy to lose, what with the fact that it refused to remove its bright green bracelets. What unsettled Angela was how completely silent both of the lights had been. She and Fareeha landed back at the lighthouse, searching for the thing in the dark.

“It’s trying to lose us in the buildings,” Fareeha noted.

And that seemed to be working. The citizens of Ilios were mostly in their beds, and their target was given free reign of the town. They hovered over the buildings, catching glimpses of green every now and again, enough to keep them trailing along, just out of reach. Finally, they arrived at the well, the light suddenly realizing it was cornered. The only way to go was down, over the edge and into the ocean.

Fareeha stepped back from Angela, spreading as far to the right as she could while remaining within the staff’s range. Between the two of them, they stood between the light and the edge of the well, blocking all its exits. If it wanted to get out, it’d have to go through them.

“This is your one opportunity to surrender!” Fareeha called out, voice echoing around the silent courtyard.

The light didn’t react. Angela tensed, readying for battle. If it made a break for it, it’d most certainly go for her fist, since she wasn’t wielding any visible weapons and was much more lightly armored. If it did, it was in for a surprise. The weight of her pistol always reminded her that she was her own backup plan.

“Fair enough,” Fareeha said, and fired a rocket.

That got it to move. It lunged out of the way, dodging forward and away from the cliff, all the while Fareeha was lining up another shot. But it moved too fast. Impossibly fast, so fast if _had_ to be an omnic, already too close to fire without putting them all in danger. It slammed its shoulder into Fareeha, sending them both to the ground. If she was surprised that it went for Fareeha instead of her, Angela didn’t have time to act on it. Even as she switched the beam to heal her patient, something flew out of the darkness and leaped on her.

She screamed. Her staff was torn from her hands and she was left spinning and clawing at the thing on her back, losing track of Fareeha’s struggle. _The second light!_ This was some sort of ambush, now matched two on two once again. It was so small but so strong, the world growing even darker than the night as an arm tightened around her throat, green bracelets choking the life out of her.

It was by pure coincidence that her foot found the lip of the well and sent them both tumbling into darkness.

Her wings flared out, the sudden stop of their fall shaking the light loose. It scrabbled harder at her back, pulling at her hair, trying to stay latched on. She jammed it with her wing, stunning it just long enough to pull her pistol from behind her back. Firing, she twisted as far as she could, hoping to get an angle on its face. It dodged, energy pellets flying harmlessly against the side of the well, leaving black soot stains where it had once been bleached white. They were locked in a stalemate, and only sank lower and lower into the well.

The Valkyrie tilted, spinning them in a pinwheel fall, wingtips periodically scraping the sides. True terror welled up inside Angela. The rational part of her brain was shutting down from lack of oxygen, leaving nothing behind but the certainty that whatever waited at the bottom was a fate worse than death.

In panic, she did the only thing she could thing of. She folded one wing in, speeding their fall. Immediately they went around faster and faster, increasing their g-force until WHAM. She slammed her back against the curvature of their prison. The arm around her throat loosened, and for the first time she took a breath, pushing off against the stone to watch her attacker fall.

Only it didn’t. A gasp escaped Angela as she was given her first clear glimpse of the light.

It wasn’t an omnic at all. They clung to the wall, stuck there with clawed hands and feet, staring at her with a face that was completely blank. Their eyes were brown, sclera white and full of blood vessels, but that was the only thing human about them. Where they should have had skin were bright green scales, or perhaps only green by the light of their wristbands. Their face was neither feminine nor masculine, just emotionless, watching as Angela sank farther and farther down.

_Such advanced genetic modification! I didn’t even know something like this was possible…_

The thought was cut short as the creature began to climb, escaping from the black depths using their sharpened claws. Angela realized she was still in danger, falling into the abyss even as her assailant disappeared over the edge of the well. She jammed her pistol back in place, grabbing at the walls with both hands. It was no use; her fingers slipped on the smooth stone, her boots refusing to find a toehold. Panic flared hotter. She flapped her wings, but it only took her a few meters higher before she began to fall back. She tried again, but rose even less, exhaustion in her wings taking hold.

She was going to die. She would fall in here and never be seen again, disappearing like so many tossed coins. The thought burst through her vocal cords and she screamed, calling up and into the world beyond.

“Pharah! Pharah, please! I need your help!”

There was only echoes. She was so far away, she couldn’t even hear if Fareeha had won her own fight. There were two of the creatures up there now, what if they had killed her? What if Ana Amari’s only daughter was dead, the person who said she’d watch out for her too powerless and too far away to do anything.

“Pharah! Fareeha…!”

Just as she felt the strength in her wings fading, a shaped blocked out the stars above.

“Mercy!”

The call came down faster than the rocketeer. Fareeha dropped into the well, quickly turning on her hover as soon as she was a meter above. Angela managed one last desperate flap, and Fareeha’s arms closed around her. A boost and a kick against the wall later, and they were up, tearing back into to the moonless night.

The doctor didn’t have enough energy to stand when they touched back on solid earth, exhausted after sustaining her own flight for so long. Fareeha helped her to the ground, holding her shoulders steady as she leaned against Fareeha’s breastplate. She jerked, her cheek coming away with wet blood.

“Pharah, are you-?”

Fareeha shook her head. “Not mine.”

Angela nodded, relieved. Several muttered _thank yous_ later, and had the presence of mind to look around. There was no sign of either of the creatures, nor of any onlookers peeping out the windows.

“The mission was a failure then,” Angela breathed sadly.

“Was it?” Fareeha’s helmet had come off in the fight, and she raised her eyebrows at the doctor.

“Our targets have escaped, and we both nearly died in the process. I call that a failure.”

“Hm. I suppose you're right on those accounts. But this might change your mind.”

Fareeha produced the metal ball from her launcher’s side chamber, covered in blood but otherwise undamaged.

“The artifact…” Angela raised her eyes from the orb to Fareeha. “How did you…?”

Fareeha shrugged. “I guess in the end they figured this thing wasn’t worth dying over.”

Angela lowered her voice to barely about a whisper. “So you saw what they were too?”

Before, Fareeha’s face had been nearly as relieved as Angela’s. Now it hardened, her mouth a thin line. She nodded. There was nothing more to say. Angela hardly felt like she could process this, not when she had nearly just escaped death. The thought of falling forever into that hellhole still made her shiver. Fareeha seemed content to just let her rest here, so she did.

Pinkish light began to warm the horizon, not quite dawn, but no longer night either. Angela rolled her head around her shoulders.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there in time,” Fareeha said suddenly, and Angela looked up at her. “One second you were there and the next you were gone, I had no idea what to do except keep fighting.”

“It was not your fault,” Angela assured. “In fact, I felt like _I_ had abandoned _you_ when I realized I couldn’t get back up.”

Fareeha snorted. “Hah. Some partners we are. First battle in and it’s already gone to hell.”

“We’re alive aren’t we?” Angela pointed out, “That means we get another chance. An opportunity to do better next time.”

Fareeha smiled, and it must have been the exhaustion because Angela suddenly thought she’d never seen a more handsome face. They watched the stars fade, the sky turn yellow, then gold.

“We’re going to have to get up off the floor and explain this to the authorities at some point,” Fareeha noted.

Angela curled tighter against the armor. “Mmm. Later. Tired now.”

Fareeha pushed the doctor off her slightly, enough to see her face. Her thumb traced against Angela’s cheek, wiping away the blood with metal fingers. It didn’t feel awkward the way most of their previous interactions had. Angela wasn’t trying to start dry conversation or bring the other woman out of her shell, this was merely a quiet moment after battle, as soft reprieve between two people.

“Actually, I changed my mind. I’m hungry.”

“Hungry?” Fareeha smirked.

“Yes. And I do believe you said you’d buy me some dinner.”

Fareeha laughed, fully pushing the other woman off her. “ _You_ were the one who said I’d buy you dinner. It also happens to be six in the morning.”

With a wave of her hand, Angela dismissed her. “Breakfast then. We’re in Greece right? They eat yogurt for breakfast here. I could really go for some yogurt.”

Rolling her eyes, Fareeha got to her feet, and helped the doctor up. “ _Fine_. But we have to go back to transport and get cleaned up first.”

“And then yogurt?”

The smile touched the corners of Fareeha’s face in all the right ways. “Yes, then I will take you out for some yogurt.”

The two women walked slowly back to their ship, arms linked and recovering from their short’s night sleep. Dawn slowly broke over the island, and some people gawked as the blood soaked warriors passed. They ignored their onlookers, merely glad for each other’s company.

“Fareeha?” Angela asked as the last star winked out of existence.

“Hmm?”

“You’re a good partner.”

“As are you Dr. Zeigler. As are you.”


End file.
